Feel My Reach
by AlwaysEachOther
Summary: He's on the other side of that door, albeit behind a thick sheet of glass. Still, he's closer to me than he has been in weeks, and I'm not sure I can handle it. Fiona's perspective in 6.03 Last Rites. My contribution to Burn Notice Appreciation Week: Most Emotional/Heartbreaking Scene.


_So, I haven't written anything for Burn Notice in awhile, and I really should be updating my chapter story, but I came across the Burn Notice Appreciation Week posts on Tumblr, and decided I had to write this straight away. For those who read my chapter story, I'm sorry, the next chapter is coming super soon! So this is my contribution for_ _ **Wednesday: Favourite Emotional/Heartbreaking Scene**_ _. This scene popped into my head straight away because it makes me cry every single time I watch it. Jeffrey and Gabrielle's acting is A+ as always, they can say so much with just their eyes and facial expressions. I have written about this scene before in another story, but this one is longer and delves more into Fi's thoughts in the episode. I really hope you enjoy it, please leave reviews and let me know your thoughts. Also, the title of this story comes from the beautiful song that they play in the background of this scene, The Reach by Miranda Lee Richards. I obviously don't own the song or its lyrics, or anything to do with Burn Notice._

/

Everything hurts.

I'd been so sure of my decision before going into this, so sure that I was doing the right thing. Michael had been heading down a dangerous path, and I couldn't just let him keep going. I was worried he would have lost himself and never returned to me.

That was weeks ago, when I could remember all of those reasons. None of it seems that important right now. This place is breaking me; tearing down everything makes me Fiona Glenanne, a woman that people fear. In here, I'm nobody. I'm no one but a person with a target on her back, without her team to help her out. Worst of all, I'm separated from the man I love, and it's all my own doing.

He haunts my every thought. During the day I focus on the task of staying alive, but at night when it's quiet, my memory betrays me. I can still hear his screams of my name as I walk into the building to turn myself in. We've said goodbye far too many times, but this one definitely takes the prize for being the worst of all. Never once have I imagined it'd be me walking away from him, especially under these circumstances.

The harsh sound of the buzzer breaks me out of my thoughts. He's on the other side of that door, albeit behind a thick sheet of glass. Still, he's closer to me than he has been in weeks, and I'm not sure I can handle it. As desperately as I want to see him, I know it won't be long before he has to leave, and I'll still be stuck in this hell.

My eyes fall straight to him as soon as I make my way through the door. His blue eyes meet mine, wide as can be, and then drop from my gaze once he takes in my bright orange outfit. He forces a smile to his face as I take a seat across from him, but even someone who doesn't know him as well as I do would be able to see through it. My super spy is trying so hard to hold onto the walls he constantly has around himself, but I can see them crumbling right before my eyes. I watch as his beautiful eyes fill with tears, a sight that's extremely uncommon.

Oh, Michael. If I thought I was in pain before, I was sorely mistaken. The numbness I've felt up until this moment has been taken over by such despair. This is not my Michael. I was supposed to save him by doing this, not cause him more pain. Instead, I'm seeing a shell of the man I love.

We stare at each other for a long moment before me reaches for the phone. I follow suit.

"Now you see why I never wear orange." I make a sad attempt at a joke. Anything to try and remove that look from his face.

"You look beautiful." He chokes out. I sure as hell don't believe him, but I know he's being completely serious.

"I'm going to get you out." He continues. "I promise you that. And we're getting close. The CIA –."

"I love you too, Michael." I interrupt him. He gives me a small smile, trying to regain control of his emotions, which are quickly spiralling out of control. I know how much he hates that.

I know what he's doing; using too many words to say something so simple. I know he's doing everything he can to get me out of here, I trust him completely. I know he loves me, even though he's never said it in those words. We don't need those three words to tell each other how we feel when we have so many others.

 _You don't marry someone when you love somebody else._

 _I'm not going to risk losing you again, Fi._

 _There is no line when it comes to you._

"We don't have much time. I don't want to talk about that." I beg him. I need to think of something else. I need to pretend we're not sitting in a prison with a sheet of glass between us. I need to feel like we're lying on our bed at the loft, living our normal lives. I would give anything to go back to the moment before Larry and the consulate building happened.

His eyes drop down for a long moment before they flicker back to mine.

"You know what I was thinking about the other day?"

Thank you, Michael. He's going to fulfil my ridiculous request, and help me forget where we are.

I shake my head, silently urging him to go on.

"That dingy little bar in Belfast – the Black Sand Pub."

"You mean where we met." I smile, feeling a tear slowly slide its way down my cheek.

"And I made the mistake of asking, 'would you like to dance?'" He retells the story, slipping into the accent of Michael McBride, the man I fell in love with all those years ago. "Then you pulled a snub nosed revolver on me."

"That I did." I smile at the memory. "And you said –"

"I assume that means yes." He repeats my words from so many years ago, when we were just two kids in a bar in Ireland, never imagining we'd end up here, in a prison in Florida.

He keeps talking to me in his Irish accent, and I can't hold back my tears any longer. How I wish I could kiss him, throw my arms around his neck and hold him tightly against me. Such a simple thing that is now impossible.

I keep listening as he tells more stories, until he says the words I've known for years, but have never actually heard.

"I love you, Fiona." His voice says quietly, but firmly through the phone.

His words heal me and break me all at once. I freeze and stare at him, daring to believe that I haven't imagined it. As his words sink in, I close my eyes and focus on his voice as he keeps talking to me, still speaking in his Irish lilt. I let the tears fall, not caring anymore. I take my free hand and cover the mouth of it as I whisper furiously into it, keeping my words just for us.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

It's because I love him that I made this decision, even though it's killing me right now. He finally tells me how he feels, and I can't do anything about it.

We keep whispering to each other until the guard comes back to collect me.

"I'll get you out, Fi. Just wait for me." He promises.

I nod, soaking in the image of him until the last possible second. I turn my head back to look at him as the guard leads me out the door. He looks as broken as I feel.

I'm led back to my cell, and thank God there's nobody around. I curl into the corner of my bed and let everything go, tears flowing down my cheeks at an alarming pace, tightness gripping at my chest.

Michael will get me out; I just need to trust him. He loves me, and I made the right decision. Now I need to wait.


End file.
